


tuxedo of doom, part deux

by andorgyny



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 08:10:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1503176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andorgyny/pseuds/andorgyny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What’s the occasion, then?" she asks as she slowly sits up and surveys her meal. "For bed in breakfast with bananas foster, you must really want something." Bless him, but her husband is generally not the most considerate man in the world—in any world. He frowns at the implications.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tuxedo of doom, part deux

He wakes her with the smell of fresh waffles and a kiss on the cheek. “G’morning, sleepy head,” he says, piling a tray full of waffles and coffee and bananas foster onto the bed beside her. She stretches with a drowsy grin. 

"What’s the occasion, then?" she asks as she slowly sits up and surveys her meal. "For bed in breakfast with bananas foster, you must really want something." Bless him, but her husband is generally not the most considerate man in the world—in any world. He frowns at the implications.

”Occasion?” he squeaks. “Perhaps I simply want to lavish my wife with all of the splendor she deserves on a gorgeous Sunday morning. There’s nothing afoot! Nothing at all! And shame on you for suggesting that I could possibly have ulterior motives. In some cultures, that’s grounds for divorce, you know.”

Rose raises an eyebrow skeptically. “So this has nothing to do with Mum’s party tonight.”

The Doctor falters slightly as he sits on the edge of the bed. “Well, these things aren’t necessarily connected, you know, but if by chance you felt like skipping it, I’ve got the coordinates set for St. Lucia, the planet. Although the island is just as lovely. Tons of banana groves there, and I definitely had nothing to do with them this time!”

"We’re not missing the party, not even for tropical paradise," she says after a sip of coffee. He takes her fork and stabs a chunk of banana. "Mum made us promise. And we’re here already, we might as well stick around for the night." 

"You know things happen when I wear that tux around your mother."

She laughs. “Things happen regardless of what you’re wearing and who you’re with.” He definitely does not pout. “Oh, cheer up. I’ll be wearing the violet dress you like.”

He perks up substantially. “The one with the lace?” She nods. “Ooh, I love the one with the lace. Lots of… skin.” The Doctor grins lazily for a moment, imagining his lovely wife in fine aubergine silk, the sleeveless number with the slender waist and the full skirt that shows off her calves firm from endless running. Still, he’d been hoping to get her in her red bikini, which shows off considerably more skin than her vintage couture. “But who says we can’t do a bit of both? Surf and turf, if you will.”

"Tomorrow," Rose says after swallowing the last of the bananas foster. "I promised Mum that we’d not risk a trip before her party, especially since the TARDIS is a tad bit… you know, she has a mind of her own most days. And your piloting leaves a lot to be desired."

"Oi! I’d like to see you try!"

 

One of Pete’s drivers, Vincent, picks them up at their flat, even though the Doctor has told Jackie repeatedly that a simple trip across space is not difficult to make and he could have easily gotten the location right. It’s drizzling out, and the sky rumbles with distant thunder. 

Nestled inside the car, Rose leans against him and presses a kiss to his jaw. He sighs and wraps his arm around her shoulder, humming contentedly against the crown of her head.

"You know I think you’ve done great work on the TARDIS, right?" she asks after a silent moment. "I can’t imagine how difficult it really is to navigate all of time and space the way you do. And Mum’s still a little nervous from when we missed Tony’s play last year. These things mean a lot to her, you know."

"I still think we could have gone to the party another day," he replies carefully. "But you’re right, I suppose it’s better to be safe and just go while we’re in town rather than risk a slap from Jackie." 

Rose giggles. 

Outside, the rain picks up. Drums a steady beat against the exterior. 

"I love you," he says. "And I’ll never stop."

She looks up at him and smiles. “Me too.”

 

The party is, like all of Jackie Tyler’s get-togethers, the event of the season. Celebrities dressed to the nines mingle with CEOs, waiters in fine uniforms serve organic hor d’oeurves and newly legalized champagne, and a world-renowned string quartet serenades dancing couples by the ice sculpture exhibit.

Because this Jackie Tyler is not a horrible snob, children play games with the best nannies in Britain right in the main living room. Teens sulk in the conservatory, groaning together about how dreadful their parents are for making them come while they steal sips of champagne from the older kids. 

The dog, Rosie, sneaks off with a whole smoked salmon.

Birthday gifts are discouraged, of course; Jackie sponsors a women’s organization and prefers for guests to make donations in her name instead.

Except when it comes to her daughter and son-in-law, who are expected to show off their travels with photographs and found trinkets. Once the party draws to a close, naturally; after all, to most people, time and space travel is still the stuff of science fiction.

It is entirely too late for Tony to be up and about, but he insists on seeing what his big sister and brother-type-person have brought with them. Last time they’d wrapped up mango-flavored weddybregs (a date-like candy from Barrisa IV) and a signed pair of Marilyn Monroe’s shoes in paper gift wrap, all tied up with a big TARDIS-blue ribbon. 

Jackie hadn’t much wanted to try the sweets, but the pumps were just her size. More or less.

This night, the family sits in a circle in the living room, the Doctor with Tony in his lap, Pete with his arm around Jackie’s shoulders, and Rose half-asleep as she curls up into the Doctor’s side. 

"For you, Pete—a vintage you can’t possibly have in your wine cellar." The Doctor passes a bottle of Merlot to the older/younger man who glances at the label and whistles lowly.

"3214. You’re right on that one, Doctor. I don’t have anything from that year."

Rose smiles. “Apparently it’s already aged to perfection, or something.”

The Doctor pulls a small box out of his pocket. “Tony, this is a very delicate toy that you should really only play with to drive your mum bonkers.” Jackie frowns.

The boy, however, grins and reaches for the box, opens it and peers inside. “It’s a paper clip?”

"It’s a lliridian, a musical instrument from Halna." The Doctor pulls it out of the the box. It’s a small, thin wire-like contraption twisted around itself a few times. He blows on it gently and a trilling, high-pitched noise that sounds like birds chirping emanates from the center. "See? Now you try." 

He hands it back to Tony, who blows as hard as he can against it. The whistle shrieks in response. Rosie the dog comes running back into the room.

Jackie’s frown intensifies. “Perfect. Give a seven-year-old boy a whistle from Hell.”

"Halna," the Doctor corrects. The boy blows on his whistle again.

"Anyway," Rose interjects, sensing her mother’s irritation grow. "Tony, how about you put that back in the box and save it for tomorrow, alright? You can play with it outside when the Doctor shows you how to use it properly." She sighs, relieved, when her brother does as he’s told.

"And as for you, Jackie." The older woman perks up considerably when the Doctor pulls a long, thin box out of his pocket. "Rose liked it. I think it’s a bit gaudy, personally, but—"

He opens the box and out fly a number of tiny clockwork birds, their beaks and wings painted different colors, all sorts of yellows and purples and reds and greens, all silently fluttering around the room, circling here and there, even landing on the mantelpiece and falling asleep.

The Doctor hands a necklace to Jackie, and attached to the chain is a silver birdcage the size of her thumbnail. “See how the cage door is open? When you wear this and the door is open, they will fly around as you see here. When you are tired of them, you simply close the cage door and—” 

The birds halt. Then, one-by-one they return to the box and fold up into little origami-like birds.

"Wow," Tony says.

"They’re from a jeweler in the mountains of 43rd century Peru."

Jackie stays silent for a moment, just holding the birdcage charm and smiling at it. “It’s engraved in the bottom, but I can’t read it. It’s Spanish or something.”

Rose rolls her eyes. Of course it was in Spanish; the TARDIS has been translating it for her. 

"It says ‘I love you because I know no other way,’” she says. “It’s in that book of poetry that you got for me on our wedding.”

The older woman sniffles. “I just thought the cover looked nice.”

 

Even later that night, when Tony has been tucked into bed and Rose’s hands are wandering a bit too much for present company (or company at all), the Doctor decides that another night spent at the Tyler mansion isn’t such a bad idea. 

"It’s no bother," Jackie says a bit too cheerfully when he reluctantly asks to stay over. "I already had Maria make up one of the guest rooms. It’s the gold room, Rose." She clears her throat because Rose is clearly not listening. "Goodness, you’d think you two don’t go at it enough already."

The Doctor reddens. “C’mon Rose. Let’s go find our room.”

Rose grins and hugs her mother before pulling the Doctor up the grand staircase and into one of the many corridors. 

"Goodnight," Jackie calls, smiling to herself and tightening her robe as she hears her kettle whistling for her.


End file.
